"This is a modern Tower of Babel," he said, pointing at the structure with a stubby forefinger. "These Americans must be good and religious people or God would throw down such a tower!" When I explained to him that it was built of steel covered with stone and told him that there were many other greater buildings, he was impressed, but not astonished. "If it is God's will, these Americans will conquer the world," he concluded. I then told him that war had been forced on America and her armies were even then in France fighting the Germans. He knew a good deal about the war and was naturally an enemy of England, which meant that he was friendly to the Germans. The fact that America had been forced into the conflict carried great weight with him, however, and I had a feeling that his pro-Germanism was much weakened by this knowledge. I quickly found a home in Ermelo and settled down to practice medicine. My work there was hard but interesting. Its chief delight was the fact that I spent most of my time outdoors. A round of visits soon meant that I would be gone several days, spending most of the time in the saddle. Many trips could be made by motor, particularly the periodical ones to the mines, but most of my Boer patients lived where motors could not travel. Except for the mining companies which had appointed me their resident physician, my patients were all white people. The Boers are a hardy lot and hate to admit that they are ill. Hence, when I received a call to a Boer farm, I always expected the worst and was seldom disappointed. Bit by bit my practice increased, and I began to regard Ermelo as my permanent home. There were a number of pleasant people there, both English and Boers, and we lived a very contented busy life. Sibijaan turned out to be a valuable servant and did everything for me that he could. Of course I made him head boy about my place, and he kept the other servants in good order and saw that all things went right. Oom Tuys stayed with me frequently, and his visits were always welcome. He wandered about the Transvaal a great deal and was a source of information of all sorts. It was in December, 1918, that he brought me news that interested me deeply. "I have come from Zombode," he said, "and there is hell to pay in Swaziland. Old Labotsibeni tells me that Tzaneen and her right-hand man, Lochien, are plotting to have Sebuza made king and are making preparations for his coronation. Lomwazi, who is a son of the old queen and acts for her, tells me that Labotsibeni will not give up the throne. She will have to die if she does. As you know, it is the Swazi custom to sacrifice any ruler who loses the throne, and the old girl doesn't want to be killed.